


a million miles (cross the ocean)

by bittersnake



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin Skywalker is in the Shame Pit, F/M, The Skywalker Family Mini-Therapy Hour, staring Jord and Tessalie the Porgs who have done nothing wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22625572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittersnake/pseuds/bittersnake
Summary: in which the Force tries to pay back some of the debt it owes the Skywalkers.
Relationships: Rey & Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 28
Kudos: 102
Collections: For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange





	a million miles (cross the ocean)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [persimonne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/persimonne/gifts).



> HAPPY EXCHANGE DAY PERSIMMONE!!!

_Death, yet the Force_

There's an odd sort of silence in death that Ben never expected. Or perhaps it was that the concept of silence was one he was now able to experience in the endless void that was death. It’s ironic that death was the one place the voices couldn't follow, thought Ben. Maybe he should have tried it sooner.

 _And then, she would have died alone and cold,_ a voice echoes in the darkness, but not in his head. It’s an odd startling sensation. It’s a voice but it’s not from within him-- as it was for most of his life-- but outside of him. He always thought assumed that while the Force existed-- and he knows it exists, he felt its pull before he could even say his name-- death was merely...death. Rejoining the Force was merely a novel concept. Evidently, death is full of novel concepts, he reflected.

_You saved her, Ben Solo..._

He feels himself flinch at that name. It is _his_ name but after living for so long beneath a mask he has no idea _how_ to be Ben Solo. It doesn't matter anyway. He's dead. Isn’t he?

_There is no death but the Force._

Yes, but I am dead, he replies somehow. 

_The Force is not stagnant and neither is death_.

Ben feels a headache slowly grow. I died and I am now to be subjected to Jedi platitudes for eternity, he grumbles to himself, lovely. 

He feels something ripple through the vastness that, if this was the living world, Ben guesses to be amusement. Amusement from something old and ancient who’s presence he does not see per se but _feels_. It's comforting in an odd way. Not like the voice clawing through his skull since childhood, it's acid whispers slowly burning away every bond he had; this voice is calmer? Neutral. It echoes in his ears and not in his head. In spite of being surrounded by a vastless black void, he feels safe. 

I am...dead? Right? I was somewhere else-- _wrapped about her small broken form, pulling from old long past lessons to drag some dying light out of himself and into her. A world without her would be akin to death. He’d rather die than let another person he loved die. He's lost so much to darkness. Let her not be yet another loss.--_ and then I was here, he asks the void.

_And now, you are here._

That's not an answer.

_Was it a question?_

Suppose it was, he bites out. Even in death he can’t escape headaches. Ben wonders if headaches are a side-effect of death or if that was just an additional benefit for being of the Skywalker line.

 _It's not. Your family has given much to the force,_ the voice filled with melancholy reverberates around and _within him_. He feels like he’s in one of the dives of Han--no, his _father_ ’s youth with the bass of the music thrumming in his bones. _Perhaps, it is time for us to give something back,_ the voice trails off into the darkness that surrounds him--except for a small faint glow in the darkness,

It's barely noticeable. It's like a pinprick of light in the darkness pulsing slow but steadily in the darkness. 

He steps towards the light.

_Chaos, yet harmony._

Running off with the sacred texts of the Old Jedi Order and one of the commanders of the Resistance with a half formed plan--and calling it a plan was arguably a stretch-- was not what Rey had intended on doing when she woke up this morning. But arguably, it was a plan as opposed to the incident on Mon Cala. The fact that the initiation of said plan was slightly more _aggressive_ than intended was an unforeseen consequence.

"Please tell me, we didn't just kill the historian from Lerct," Rose said mournfully as one of the many porgs infesting the _Falcon--_ Rey could have sworn there were only half as many the day before-- cooed around the engineer sitting next to the dejarik table.

"Technically, it's not truly a 'we' since I'm the one that actually hit him," Rey replied blithely as she flipped through the various texts strewn about the Falcon.

"He crumpled to the ground."

"I wouldn't say it was ground as much as gravity decided to reverse itself and he was in the way,” Rey muttered staring intently at an ink splotch on one of the pages. Actively, trying to ignore the stare burning into her from across the room.

" _Rey-"_

 _"_ I panicked."

"You're a Jedi."

"There's no where in the Jedi Code that says one does not panic. "

Rose sighed. "You know you could have just asked for books back."

"I was going to but he kept going on about historical significance and legacy and..." Rey trailed off slumping against the lounge seat. "I just felt like a fraud and I--"

"Just whacked him on the skull and ran off with ancient texts of the Jedi,” Rose finished dryly

"When you say it like that, you make it sound worse that it actually was. I made sure he was still breathing; kriff, I didn't even hit him that hard," Rey grumbled into the silence of hold. "I've hit _Finn_ harder and he's fine."

"Maybe you should try again," Rose muttered.

Rey raised her head to stare at Rose across the room. "Why are you here, anyway? You didn't need to come along."

"I thought you could use a co-pilot," Rose said with a shrug.

Rey grimaced. "I don't need the Force to tell me that's a pile of bantha shit."

"And maybe, I needed a change of pace. I'm no one special," Rose said softly with bitter smile. "The last person who cared about me is gone." At this, one of the porgs curled up in her lap began to make soft cooing sounds. "I know _you_ care Tessalie, don't you worry," she murmured back.

"That's not true. Finn cares--" At this Rose pulled a face, her skepticism at Rey’s words clear. "I know he's being a bit of an ass right now but I promise you he does. And I care too. You and Finn are the closest things I have to friends these days."

"Everyone loves you--"

"No. No, they don't" Rey replied vehemently. "They love the idea of me. They love Rey Skywalker, the savior of the galaxy. They care nothing of Rey from Jakku. Rey No-One-Special. Rey who was abandoned. Just Rey. They want a hero to put on a pedestal." She sighed bone-deep and weary. "I can't be that. Not right now." _Not while I'm so empty and raw inside,_ she thought.

Rose stood brushing off the stray feathers clinging to her pants. "So, where are we headed then, Just-Rey of Jakku?" 

At this, the stress of the day lessened ever so slightly for Rey. While she wasn’t quite sure where this path was leading, she felt--no _knew_ that for once, she wouldn’t be going alone.

"Have you ever heard of the Vergence Scatter Phenomena?”

_Passion, yet serenity._

Ben enters a field. It's vast. Green blades of grass as far as the eye can see. He turns around only to see wherever -- whatever -- he came from is no longer there. It's just him in this field. Alone. As always. He’s so so tired of being alone.

"You do look a little like him," a voice breaks the silence surrounding him. He turns to see a woman. She's short--mind you, everyone has been short to him since the age of fifteen-- but more so than most. If he had to guess, the woman in front of him is on the lower percentile of height...much like his mother is---was. Ben looks closer. The woman is clothed in a what looks like a soft blue gown that reminds him of the garb seen on Pasaana's inhabitants. She has heavy waves of chestnut brown covering her shoulders and delicate features. But the most striking thing about her isn't her attire as much as the serene yet determined air about her. As if she has a goal to complete and that he’d find himself assisting her, no matter what. It reminds him of the holos he saw as a child of his mother in the Senate. Except unlike his mother, Ben senses nothing from this woman.

Well, not _nothing_ nothing. He can see her presence in the field and sense her in that manner but in the Force-- which feels more alive and vibrant in death than it ever did to him in life? It's like sensing his father. It’s like looking at someone through a piece of transparisteel; you can see them crystal clear but all they see is a smooth empty surface. 

"Excuse me," he replies staring and the woman, who's now begun to slowly walk through the grass, her footsteps eerilly silent in spite of the fabric dragging across the green blades.

"Ani... You look a little bit him. At least height-wise, though I suspect you might be slightly taller," the woman continues, now standing directly in front of him. "But this, " she reaches up--standing on her tip-toes-- to pull on one of the strands in disarray about his face. "This probably came from me." She tilts her head, thoughtfully. "And maybe your father."

"Who--who is Ani," he asks, disconcerted that this woman knows so much about him and yet, he is at loss as to her. This Force-blind creature who claims to see so much of him.

At this, the woman smiles wistfully. "It's what I called--or I guess call would be more accurate now-- my husband, Anakin."

At this revelation, Ben stills slowly matching the woman--no, his _grandmother_ , _Padme Naberrie_ \-- features to his mother's...and uncle. He can see the resemblance, now that knows to look for it. Yes, there's obviously things like the --

"Then my grandfather--"

"Isn't here at the moment," his grandmother answers.

"Why?"

Padme sighs. "He's ashamed--"

Ben laughs bitterly at this. Not only did he manage to disappoint his once living family but also managed to fail the dead as well. "Of course, he is. His only grandchild was fooled and corrupted by his enemy." 

"--of himself."

Ben just stares at her. "I--but--.

Padme reaches up to gently cup her palm around Ben's cheek. "Because, when you needed him most he wasn't there. Instead of guiding his legacy, you were left alone. He's ashamed because he doesn't believe you'd ever wish to see him again after what happened."

"Everyone leaves me," he whispers back softly with a shuddering breath. Desperately trying to pull on years of training to dull the emotions rising within him "Everyone, makes the decision that I'm someone else's problem."

"Ben--"

"It's true," he chokes out. Years of unspoken sorrow coming to the surface. "My mother decided that she couldn't train me and so she handed me off to my uncle. My uncle decided that I was too dark inside."

"They wanted to what was best for you--"

"Maybe I just wanted someone to fight for me," Ben said the words now just rushing out along with tears. "Maybe I just wanted someone to stay for me. Even if it was just to listen. Instead of thinking I was another problem to solve, I just wanted someone to believe I was worth it. That I was worth something," he sobbed into Padme's arms.

Padme wrapped her arms about his shaking form, softly murmuring things into his hair. Other than the last breath he took, he can’t remember the last time someone took him into his arms and just held him. No strings attached. Just being there. For him.

“I’m sorry,” a voice low and soft comes from behind him. Ben tenses immediately at the sound, while the woman--no, his grandmother's arms loosen ever so slightly from around his shaking form. 

“Turn around,” she whispers. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

He turns. 

There’s a man clothed in the robes of the Jedi. Not the beige colors of his youth at the temple but rich dark earth tones with black. The man is tall with dark sandy hair, that reminds Ben of his uncle, but it’s his blazing presence in the Force, that confirms to Ben who this man is.

“Grandfather, I--.” he straightens frantically trying to dry his face. Of course, the first time he meets his grandfather, he’s crying like a child. Kriff, he feels like a fool.

“I know.” 

And somehow, Ben believes him.

_Ignorance, yet knowledge._

"Why are we here again and if you so say the _Force_ , I will push you overboard," Rose yelled over the crash of the waves as Rey navigated the small skipper over the seas of Kef Bir.

"You didn't have to come," Rey shouted back as she reached out with her senses over the frothing waves. In spite of the chaos on the surface, beneath the waves there was an queer sense of serenity. Of peace. Purpose. Striped canths and blubs weaving their way through the ancient fronds of seaweed rooted on the ocean floor. The occasional wanderwing trying it's luck at catching a blub that strayed too close to the surface. The old old bones of the crew of the Death Star wreckage and their lingering presence in the Force. And _there--_ there it was. It's presence sharp and clear as if she held it in her palms. As if she held _him._ "Stop the boat!"

Rose sighed and started to deploy the anchor for the boat. "Why are we here,” she asked waving to endless expanse of water and wreckage surrounding them. 

"A focus," Rey replied starting to unbuckle her pouches. "In order for this to work, I need something that exudes his essence."

"We have fleets of First Order ships, including his personal capital ship. I'm fairly certain there must have been something on there that _exudes_ his essence," Rose grumbled, wrapping herself tightly in the resin-coated cloak, desperately trying to prevent the rain from soaking in more.

"It needs to be personal."

"Aren't clothes personal,” Rose asked exasperatedly. “Why couldn't you use that sweater that Jord was nesting in before you threatened to roast him?"

"I said I was sorry," Rey sighed. 

"He was frightened and you're avoiding the question."

"It needs to be a bit stronger for what I need to do."

"So, you don't want the Force to destroy your mourning sweater," Rose said with a wry look.

"I have no idea why everyone says you're the quiet one," Rey muttered rummaging through the gear on board. She finally came across the breathing device. She turned back to Rose. "I shouldn't be long but if anything happens, please head back to the shore. I'll be fine."

"Please tell me he's at least good in bed to make up for the whole galactic war thing."

Rey could feel her cheeks warming in spite of the frigid temperature at Rose's words. "I feel the Force calling me--" and promptly jumped over the side of the boat leaving behind Rose sputtering in the rain. Her annoyance at Rey's escape palpable through the Force.

She would have thought that being in the rain above would have acclimated her to the chill of the deep but the waters of Kef Bir were far far colder than she expected. And so so dark. 

She swam towards that dull throbbing pulse in the Force that she felt above. It was...hard to explain. Rey could feel the Force emitting from all the flora and fauna beneath the waves but when she dug past the dull roar of the living Force, there was darkness. Not the darkness of Exogol, cruel and corrupt. This darkness had a core of light that sang to her soul. Much like the light in Ben called to her.

Rose was right that she could have tried using his clothes as a focus. Rey spent hours painstakingly attempting to sift through the notes scrawled about the Jedi texts--deciding which were relevant bits of knowledge versus excessive side commentary. Some written in Luke’s hand; others a little older but written is smooth clean calligraphy that was nothing like Luke's handwriting but seemed to be from a student. She doesn't know if it's wishful thinking or actuality that she hopes it was Ben's hand that she was reading. Just another scrap of him for her to hold onto if---no, she won't even consider that option. She's come this far. Ben came back for her. She will bring him back. (There’s a small voice that says _what if,_ and thus she keeps that sweater tucked away.)

Finally, she comes across the focus. There's a sort of irony in it, she notes as she holds the crossguard saber in her hands. It's fitting that something made by his hands may-- no, will be the key to bringing him back. She tilts her head up to stare at the surface of the ocean above her and the boat gently bobbing above.

_I'm almost there Ben. Please wait for me._

_Emotion, yet peace._

He feels bare and exposed beneath the piercing gaze of the small black-haired woman sitting across from him on the Falcon. It's only amplified from the fact that barely an hour ago, he was _literally naked._ Ben's hands tightens on the slippery cloth-- _"it's all we have at the moment", Rey said apologetically, cloak held in outstretched hands, whole and unhurt. "But I don't think General Calrissian would mind too much? At least, I don't think he would."--_ currently helping with his attempt at modesty. His uncle wasn't a small man but Lando was much more lithe than Ben ever was, as he tries to figure out how best to drape the folds about himself. It’s only the comforting presence of Rey in the cockpit that keeps him wanting to flee.

Finally, the woman breaks the silence. "You're bigger than I expected."

He blinks. "Excuse me?"

"You're very big. Like, I knew from holos that you were obviously tall but they didn't convey how--," the woman gestures at him, her exasperation palpable even without the Force.

"Big?" he supplies.

She nods, hopping off of the stool she was perched on, to scoop up a black bundle of clothing next to her and begins to make odd cooing sounds directed towards it., he notes confused. She turns back to face him. 

"My name is Rose, and Rey is one of the few friends I have. I trust her, and she trusts you. If you ruin this, I don't care how powerful you are in the _Force_ , I will hunt you down and make sure you regret being brought back." With that declaration, she strides out room, almost regally.

Ben feels the next guest--visitor-- _other part of himself--_ before she appears.

She looks thinner, not as pale as she was on Exegol-- _pale and so so cold--_ but still a far from when he first saw her on Takodana. Her presence in the Force is crystal clear but her emotions are not. They're a tangled mess; much like his own. Yet for all his training, no one ever taught him what to say when you see the person you gave your life for. _And I'd do it a thousand times over_ ,

"You're really here," Rey says softly, finally addressing the rancor in the room.

"Yes, I am," he replies his voice husky from disuse. _Second chances are rare_ , he remembers from the fields of his grandparents. _Don’t make the same mistakes we did._

A step, and then another. Whether it’s him or her that moved first is unclear and honestly, Ben doesn't care because her arms are around him and he can feel her wiry form pressed up against him, angles and all. He can feel her heart beating and smell the scent of sun and sand in her hair. 

She beats her fist against his bare chest. "You left me," she sobs. “You died, you weren’t supposed to die.”

"I know."

"You left me."

"I know."

"Please, don't leave me again. Stay with me."

"I will. Will... you stay with me?" Ben asks trying and failing to strip the vulnerability from his words.

Rey looks at him, her eyes red and swollen but clear. "Yes, I will."

And in spite of an uncertain future, for the first time ever, in Rey's arms, Ben feels at peace. 

**Author's Note:**

> Review and/or concrit is love. ^_^


End file.
